


Breakfast Time

by TheColorBlue



Category: Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheColorBlue/pseuds/TheColorBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skaar makes breakfast for himself and his dad. <br/>Really short, but I liked it enough that I wanted to put it somewhere I could find it again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast Time

Bruce Banner makes himself coffee in the morning because he stayed up all night working on his laptop in the apartment kitchen, and Skaar comes wandering in around seven, wearing his pajama pants and a t-shirt with a print of Conan the Barbarian on it. He looks twelve years-old, but age is a relative thing. He pads over to the fridge and pulls out the carton of eggs and a stick of butter. The milk is still on the kitchen island. Skaar likes big breakfasts. Usually he'll help himself to multi-colored sugary cereals, and supplement that with sticky breakfast sandwiches made from peanut butter and fruit jams or bananas. Weekends, he takes the time to make buttery scrambled eggs, served with crispy sliced bacon. He makes breakfast better than his fathers--all three of them.

Skaar divides up the scrambled eggs and bacon when he's finished onto two dinner-sized plates. He has a glass of passion-fruit juice ready for himself, and also a glass of milk. His father worries about calcium in a growing kid or something, so Skaar always drinks plenty of milk. Skaar sets a plate down for himself, and then a plate in front of his father, who has fallen asleep next to his computer. Father is using a pile of newspapers as a pillow, it looks like.

It's a funny thing, because somehow big-Skaar and puny-Skaar are in agreement about their fathers these days. It's a funny kind of feeling, being so full of love and adoration for your fathers that you'd almost think that you could burst with it. Even knowing your father isn't perfect, or the epitome of any particular virtue. They love their fathers so much.

Skaar tentatively reaches out and pats his father on the shoulder. "Dad," he says quietly, "I think you should go to bed."

His father opens one eye slowly and looks at his son. "Sleep is for the weak," he says, but there's a look on his face like a joke. "And I'm the strongest one there is."

"Don't let other-fathers hear you say that," Skaar remarks. "They'd beat you up for sure."

His father just laughs at that, before sitting up, and taking a nibble from the bacon his son has made for breakfast.


End file.
